Tuesday June 10th 2008
Who: Erin and Dante What: Discussing battle tactics and fancy clothes shopping Where: Tucson, AZ When: Tuesday Afternoon Rating: Dante PG (language)
This was so fucking lame. Dante was sitting cross legged on the bed, a laptop on his lap (no questions where it had come from) looking up information on this place that Sophie Martineau worked. TruQuest. Apparently it was some corporation that helped smaller companies develop and manage themselves better. Really, it was a big business that didn't actually do anything, and covered up their activities with a hundred different five dollar words on their homepage. He was browsing the main page with a furrowed brow, annoyed and confused. Having broken into the offices earlier in the week Dante knew that most of what TruQuest did was just cover up for other very illegal doing that were going on behind the walls. A lot of drug trafficking, money laundering. They pretty much used their lame ass business front to find small businesses to secretly exploit while they hid their Swiss bank accounts from the government.
The question was, how did he infiltrate without belonging to a small business? Sure, he could get to the reception area with just himself and a suit, possibly get a business card and a phone number for one of the "coaches". That wouldn't get him to Sophie, though. He couldn't pose as someone looking for a job, either, because he didn't know fuck all about this place or its so called practices. However, there was a fundraiser benefit going on Friday evening. It was a very big social event, invitation only, millions of dollars being shelled out and traded there. Dante had a feeling that this was a lot more than some charity event. This was probably the kind of organization that covered up illegal billion dollar business deals. If he'd been an undercover cop, getting into this function would've made his career. But Dante didn't give a fuck about taking down the conglomerate. He cared about taking out one woman.
As Erin came back, still damp and smelling of chlorine, Dante barely raised his gaze to grunt at her. He needed to think. How the fuck did you get into the social event of the year when you had absolutely no social finesse?
Finally looking up, the look on Dante's face was none to dissimilar to the look Galileo surely must have worn upon discovering where the center of the immediate universe truly lay. A slow, cunning smile spread over his lips, piercing blue eyes locked deviously on Erin.
Erin had only decided to try the pool because, to her glee, no children were staying at this hotel. At least, none were allowed access to the pool. She strode in wearing a black string bikini top and a cobalt sarong around her hips, manicured toes snug in her pretty flip flops. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the way Dante eyed her, her hands idly rubbing a towel along her long wet locks.
"....Whut." She breathed, her accent apparent even in the single syllable, with its short clipped sound. Her gray eyes widened a little, expectantly.
---
Chuckling lightly, Dante placed the laptop onto the bed and got to his feet, his loose fitting pajama pants creased from him sitting so long. "You," he said, eyeing her up and down. "You. I can use you." Putting his hands on her shoulders, the golem could not keep the cheshire cat grin off his face. "I think, miss priss, that your skills will come in handy. Finally."
---
She always felt so tiny when his massive hands came down on her shoulders, and hated it less times than she loved it. During sex it was phenomenal. During everyday conversation, it made her feel vulnerable.
"Oh?" she chirped, tossing the damp towel in the direction of the hamper. It wrapped around the lip but refused to go in, and she ignored it for the most part while she unwrapped the rest of her outfit and trod, bikini-clad, toward the suitcase, or rather, backpack (she refused to call it that, still, and settled on 'her bag') that held neatly rolled clothes. A pair of jeans and a tank top were tucked under her damp arm.
"Well, do tell. Or can this wait until I've showered."
---
Already Dante's mind was concocting ingenius ideas, scenarios in which to best utilize his comrade. It had been a smart move bringing Erin along, because Roger wouldn't have worked for this.
"I gotta infiltrate," he began, pacing back and forth in the floor area in front of the television. "See, this place, TruQuest, it's a front. Pretty much just covers up what really goes on, which is... well I dunno, actually. Drugs and shit mostly, but big money. I mean biiig money. And they got this benefit slash fundraiser slash coverup for whatever real job they got going on this Friday, and it's invite only for the biggest companies they work for. Ya know? Special Friends and VIPs and shit." Running his hands over his hair, Dante was clearly getting more excited by the moment, the idea of espionage tingling his senses.
"You can't just walk into that place and see the tops, you gotta be somebody, ya know? But anybody who's somebody is gonna be at that benefit thing, and that means that Miss Martineau is gonna be on the floor with everyone else. Meaning, reachable." Finally stopping in his tracks, Dante faced Erin, eyes looking directly into hers. "I need you to get us in."
---
The ice demon wrinkled her nose, searching for a hint of the name in her memory, but came up with nothing. Dante's excitement was a little infectious, though, and soon she had forgotten her shower and was perched at the end of the bed, watching him pace like a lion. She continued gently patting at her hair, which clung in wet swirling tendrils all over her bare shoulders.
"My father might be able to help, though I'm not sure he will, what with the whole me... leaving school.. to go elsewhere thing." She licked her upper lip thoughtfully. "Ah, well, there's Vivian..." she twisted around to lean toward her backpack, seeking her cell in the front pocket.
---
See, this was the benefit of a rich girlfriend. Well, that and staying in hotels instead of sleeping on the ground. He knew that Erin would know what to do when it came to the rich scene. It was funny. Dante had always been a loner, truly hated having other people in his way. But Wesley had forced him to open himself a bit, and now he was actually glad there were people in his life. He was glad Erin was here, and was somewhat helpful. Or at least, she was willing to try. When the fuck had this happened, this liking people?
"You do what you gotta do," he said. "I'm gonna put some clothes on and go steal a tuxedo."
---
By the time he had returned -- Erin had learned not to ask questions, just listen for sirens -- she was dressed, made up, blow dried, and looking smug.
"Alright, so." She waited until she had his full attention. "Cynthia Caulwell plus one is on the list. Cynthia is my second-to-youngest sister, who will have an alibi as she lives in Canada, and Vivian, who totally hates Cynthia -- this week, anyhow -- was the one who suggested I use her name. Neither of us care if the police show up at her door, because Cynthia is bitch."
She pulled her legs up Indian style onto the mattress.
"This means... I need a dress."
---
He had been surprised that Erin hadn't said a word about him taking off to go commit obvious and admitted theft. Partly because it was illegal, and partly because he thought for sure she'd insist on coming with him to pick out cufflinks that brought out his eyes or some shit like that. But Erin had simply tended to her wet self as he dressed. Funny girl, she was.
Stealing his tux had been easy. Hell, he'd gotten one specially fit for him by the tailors, and when they'd gone in back to write up the receipt, he'd just left. It hadn't even been hard. And now it was in a bag and slung over his arm. "Hey, Kissyface," he said as he came in, not expecting her to wait to greet him and sure enough, she didn't. Good. Efficient one she was.
"Okay. Sounds good." He dropped the bag onto the bed next to Erin, one hand coming up to rub his sore shoulder. Stress, probably. "Shoulda told me that sooner, I'd have nabbed ya one."
---
"While I trust you to pick out a black and white formal suit, I don't trust you to choose my attire, darling." There it was. She closed one eye as she caught it slip out, then continued speaking again. "I saw a cluster of...eugh.. outlet stores, on the way in. There's something passable there. I just need something simple. A little black number, as it were."
She slid off the bed and looked at him. "You can stay here if you like. I shouldn't be gone more than a few hours."
---
Dante hadn't missed it. The pet name. It was becoming increasingly common between them. He didn't acknowledge it, but he did make a mental note of it.
"A few hours?" he asked, brow raised high. "You said something simple. What the hell would take a few hours if it's simple?" Honestly, girls made no sense. Dante had gotten fitted for and stolen an entire suit, and that had been two hours including travel time. Erin was buying off the rack and she expected to take as long?
---
"Dress, shoes, purse. Possibly jewelry...." her eyes slid down his legs, then back up. "You bought shoes...didn't you? You can't wear work boots under a tux."
---
Shoes? And more importantly, bought? "Erm..." he said, looking down at his own feet. "Nnnno..." She made a point, though. He'd stick out like a sore thumb in boots. What else was he missing? "Maybe I oughta come with you."
---
Something flickered across her face, just momentarily. Perhaps triumph; the light of 'that's what I wanted anyway.'
"Let's go, then."
**
At the shop, Erin was surprisingly quick. She was nervous. It was hard to tell (she was generally short with strangers and purposeful in her movements), but there was a clipped manner to her speech and a quickness in her eyes that told of unease. She picked out a dress, shoes, and a necklace -- a costume jewelry necklace -- in under an hour, and had even tried them on while Dante went to find shoes.
She caught up to him somewhere in the dress shoe aisle, eyebrow arched. "You pick a pair?"
---
In as long as it took Erin to accomplish everything she needed to, Dante had managed to find the men's show department, stare for two long minutes at the ridiculous amount of footwear guys seemed to be required, wandered the aisles looking for dress shoes, found the dress shoes, then stared in awe/horror as to the number of selections. One unfortunate salesman tried explaining the concept of "styles" to the golem, but after receiving the most frighting angry glare of his life, the poor soul scuttled away and Dante was left to his own devices. And so he stood, looking shoes over, wondering what (and why) wingtips were on shoes. Why wasn't that guy over there wearing socks with pennyloafers (more importantly why did they have tassels?) and why dear God WHY were there seven types of polished black shoes to choose from?
So, needless to say, Dante had not picked a pair. And in fact he gave Erin a dirty look for asking. "Yeah, thought red pumps might do," he growled. "Guy's in the back looking for my size."
---
She held the tiny yet classy cocktail dress against her frame and looked up at him with raised brows. "Mmm? I found it in the covert espionage section. Heh. Heh." Nervous laughter.
---
Sparing her a small glance, Dante shrugged at her choice. "You look fine out of it," he said vaguely. "You know this shit, find me shoes. Size 13. I don't got time to pick and choose."
---
"Just thirteen?" She said, before swiftly dodging away from him to avoid any sort of manhandling, playful or not. She returned momentarily with a pair. "These are fine."
---
Eager to get the fuck out of this place, Dante folded his arms and waited for Erin to grab something for him. Sometimes she was damn handy. What she picked was black, so they were fin in Dante's mind. "Cool. Let's go." He started walking toward the door, prepared to simply walk out with the stuff, hop on Jessica and piss off.
---
Considering that she was holding his shoes and her things, she ignored him, turning in the opposition to go to the register. "I'll be short," she called, to him, which was a polite warning for him not to pretend to leave without her.
After knotting the bag around her wrist she returned and climbed on behind him, a scowl on her sunglasses wearing face. "Something occurred to me while paying," she called, over the roar of the starting engine. She wrapped her arms around his waist. "....Do you even know how to dance formally?"
---
With a grunt, Dante waved over his shoulder while he walked away. If she wanted to waste her money, she could. Her choice. But he wasn't going to stand around like a jackass. He was going outside. Jessica would be better company than these people giving him dirty looks.
When Erin finally came out after spending a fuckload of time in the store (a horrible seven minutes), Dante was already stradling Jessica and running his hands over her smooth chrome. With a curt nod he sat upright while Erin settled herself on the back, kicked the bike into gear and sped off.
Dancing... yeah that might be an issue. "Probably," he shouted back over his shoulder. "Might be tucked back in my brain someplace, like German and knitting."
---
Her laugh was lost under the growling engine and whipping wind, though he may have felt her chest against his back move. "Knitting, huh," she screamed, before her forehead pressed between his shoulder blades and she was silent.